


In a Week

by sithlady



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, F/M, Smut, contains spoilers, in the second chapter, jemma - Freeform, lord of shadows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-05 02:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11004513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sithlady/pseuds/sithlady
Summary: Alternate ending to LoS, contains some spoilers.Emma and Julian get one last night together before everything changes.





	1. After the foxes have known our taste

***LoS SPOILERS***  
In which the meeting in Alicante didn't turn into a pile of shit, no Blackthorns nor Lightwoods died, and the evil Centurions got what was coming to them. Let's also pretend Wayland Manor still stands. Because reasons. 

 

Emma couldn't think. She had slipped out of the meeting as it wound down; she knew in the logical part of her mind that she should be relieved, ecstatic even. And she was, logically, though logic had never had much sway against emotion. 

Clutching Cortana, she stumbled haphazardly through the forest, desperate to get away from the city and the celebration in the faces of her friends. Her family. The only family she'd had over the past five years, the family she'd soon be leaving behind. She didn't feel like celebrating; she felt like disappearing into this forest and emerging someplace else as someone else, though it was futile to dream. She wanted to feel bitter, to find herself miles away from anyone so that she could scream and destroy and grieve so when she had to face the Blackthorns again, she could do so without breaking before them all. 

It wasn't as much of a conscious plan as it was a necessity for her soul, something so primal she couldn't have planned it until it was there, wretched from her chest as she fell to her knees in the irritatingly green grass. It seemed wrong for Idris to be so perfect when a fundamental part of herself was cracked open, raw and writhing. Fisting the grass in her shaking hands, Emma ripped the blades from the earth and let gravity be her guide as it fell dejectedly from her palms, falling back to the ground as she collapsed with it, sobs breaking through the placid silence of the forest. 

“Why?” she cried, angry with the birds that scattered at her outburst. She shouted the word over and over again until her lungs hurt and she was choking, gagging on the sound and the shuddering screams she held back for so long. She wished for the ocean as she laid trembling under the canopy of leaves, the way it engulfed sound like sustenance. The forest had no such mercy; Emma stood on shaking legs, stumbling deeper through the trees to know she was truly alone, that nobody could have followed the sounds of her grief. 

That’s what this was, Emma thought. Grief at having to leave her family, her friends, her life, her Julian. Julian. _Julian…_

It was all so unfair, no matter how bitter and childlike she felt at the thought. She had known life was unfair when she was twelve and her parents were killed, when Helen was exiled, when Julian was left raising four children before he was even a teenager. She knew the life of a Shadowhunter would always be unfair but this fate seemed downright cruel. She had lost everything and agreed to something she knew in her heart would be her demise before she was old enough to be making such decisions responsibly, before the implications of Julian’s and her choices were clear. All Emma had known was that she was alone and she couldn't survive being taken from the only person she had left. Julian was a spark of hope, and staying with him was rudimentary.  
She didn't know what she would change if given the chance, though a part of her knew she'd take this path anyway. Retrospect and all, she'd have chosen Julian no matter what. That only made it worse; he was her constant, and she couldn't - _wouldn't_ \- change that. 

Emma laid on her side, her knees curved into her chest, Cortana sheathed across her heart. She didn't bother to stop the tears that slipped over the bridge of her nose, creating a patch of mud against her cheek. She didn't care. 

The sun crept over the trees, drawing goosebumps out over her skin as shadows danced across the grass. Cursing herself for not thinking ahead, Emma drew her stele from her bra and traced a warmth rune onto her forearm, relishing in the burn. She pulled her sweater more tightly over herself and let her heavy eyelids slip shut. She thought briefly that sleeping in the forest might not be her best decision yet but she didn't care. Let the monsters find her. She almost dared them to. 

**** 

Julian was on his way back to Lightwood manor when he nearly ran into a tall, frenzied warlock chasing after a small blue boy. “Max,” Magnus shouted, clenching his fists to no doubt stifle the urge to use magic to lure his toddler back to him. 

Acting on Shadowhunter and fatherly instincts, Julian swept the boy up in his arms before he was out of reach, offering him a quiet _sorry, bud_ as he handed him back to his dad. 

Magnus nodded his appreciation then raised an eyebrow at Julian who seemed to have something to say. 

“Emma,” Julian breathed, raking his hand through his tousled hair. It had been a long day. “Have you seen her?”

Magnus narrowed his eye, switching his squirming kid to the other arm. “I… thought she'd be with you. I haven't seen her since the start of the meeting.”

Julian shook his head, trying to steady the quickly-rising rate of his heart. “Maybe she went after the Cohort,” he wondered aloud, drawing his phone from his pocket. “Thanks, Magnus.”

Before the warlock had a chance to question what he was being thanked for, Julian was jogging down the street, his phone pressed to his ear.

Julian knew it was pointless, electronics didn't work well, if at all in Idris. Something about the wards, if he remembered correctly. Still, he tried. The call wouldn't connect and Julian cursed under his breath, drawing nearer to the Blackthorn manor where his family would be waiting. He mentally chastised himself, sure Emma would be there with the kids. He had nothing to worry about. 

She wasn't there, though. In fact, nobody had seen her for most of the day. Livvy remembered seeing her slip out of the meeting and nobody had seen her since. Dread rose up in Julian like something from a swamp, deep and dark. _Emma,_ he thought, hoping she could hear him through their bond, no matter how unlikely. _Where are you?_

Nothing. 

Tempering his panic, he looked at the steadily setting sun and felt his heart hammering in his chest. Under normal circumstances, he would have admired the pinks and oranges of the sunset, considering which shades he'd need to capture it exactly. Right now he thought only of Emma. 

Maybe she was with the Inquisitor. Maybe she was with Mark, or Cristina. Not for the first time, Julian cursed the inconvenience of Idris’s lack of technology as he pulled his stele from his pocket and traced a tracking rune on the back of his hand. Reaching into his weapons belt, he pulled out a hair tie of Emma’s he kept on him most of the time, a few of her golden hairs twisted around it. He slipped it over his wrist and let the rune lead the way. 

By the time the sun had set fully, Julian was miles into the forest, hearing nothing but the sounds of crickets around him. The night vision rune he'd drawn on his arm was still effective as Julian traipsed through the forest, following what seemed like an impossible trail. What was Emma doing out here? Was she okay? Was she _alone?_

Julian didn't try to curb his terror as he wondered what he'd find. Surely he would know if she was… _No_ , he wouldn't think about that. She was out here, he knew it. He felt her. But why? _Why-?_  
And there she was. She was curled on the forest floor, trembling slightly, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. _Trembling_ , Julian thought. She was trembling, not still. Alive. Alive. 

“Emma!” he cried, closing the distance between them in a mere few steps of his long legs. His witchlight was in his hand in an instant as he fell to his knees before his parabatai, his- his _what?_ “Emma,” he whispered, though his tone was more of a shout. 

“Emma, wake up.” 

Her eyes fluttered open and she was staring back at him, the deep chocolate of her eyes illuminated in the faint blue light. She started, sitting up instinctively as her eyes looked around the clearing as if confused. Anger rose in Julian as he took her in, replacing the fear that slid through his veins mere moments before. Before he could tame himself, he was shouting. 

“What the hell are you doing out here, Emma?”

She wouldn't meet his eyes, turning her face away from him as if to hide. Her gentle trembling had become steady shaking as she was pulled from her cocoon of body heat she'd found curled up into herself. 

“Emma!”

She flinched at his tone and Julian saw her jaw quiver and clench. She was- had she been _crying_? Guilt swept over Julian, ashamed by his anger when this person he loved needed anything else from him. 

“Emma,” he breathed, his tone more gentle this time. “Emma, why are you out here? You can't sleep in the forest.” 

Emma just shook her head, reaching up to cover her face with her hands. It was only as she did that Julian noticed her muddied face, her eyes and nose rimmed in red, and the dried tear tracks all over her face like illuminated snail paths. A part of him broke at the sight as he reached for her, tangling his fingers in hers as he pulled her hands off her face. Had she come out here… to cry? To be alone? “Emma.”

He didn't know what to say. He knew there was little he could say to fix this, to make it all stop, to give her the happy life she deserved. Because she did deserve that, after everything. And it devastated Julian to know that he wasn't sure he could ever give that to her, no matter how much every cell in his body worshipped every cell in hers. No matter their love. 

****

“Let's get you home, Em,” Julian said, his voice so tender that it physically _hurt_ Emma while still cauterizing the wound. He pulled her to him, drawing her into his lap to absorb some of his accumulated heat. She was so cold, it felt bone-deep. Emma pushed herself against Julian, burying her nose into his neck, breathing his undeniably clove-and-sweat scent that made her heart tumble around in her chest, utterly unhinged. 

“I want to be alone with you,” Emma whispered, her ragged breath low and raw. She felt Julian shudder around her, his arms dragging their bodies closer together until they were all but entangled. “You're so warm,” she mused, her head lolling to his shoulder. “I'm cold.”

“I can tell,” Julian responded, bending backwards and gaining enough room to open his jacket to her. Emma nuzzled closer to him, her hands reaching around to Julian’s back as her body relaxed at the warmth. “Here,” Julian said, retrieving his stele from his pocket. Brushing her hair behind a shoulder, he pushed her layers aside to sketch a warmth rune onto her chest. The closer to the heart, the more effective the rune. Emma’s breath hitched as Julian bent down to kiss the new rune so, so gently that it made her heart ache. When he pulled back, their eye contact was charged; Julian couldn't stop himself before his lips were on hers.

It was a slow kiss, so unlike the others they'd shared. Emma wanted a lifetime of kisses like these. She wanted so much more time with Julian, but she would take tonight if he'd give it. 

“I mean it, Jules-”

“ _Julian_ ,” he corrected immediately. “Please.”

“Julian,” Emma amended, the briefest hint of a smile on her lips. “I want to be alone somewhere tonight. I want a night with you before…” _I'm exiled,_ she thought. She closed her eyes as she remembered what the coming days would entail, and the months – years, even – that followed. 

Julian nodded slowly as his lips brushed hers again. Emma's hands found Julian’s cheek, grinning slightly at the stubble she found there. “Okay,” he said as they pulled apart. “Let's find somewhere to be alone, then.”

“I think I know somewhere we can go.”

****

“Penny for your thoughts?” Julian asked as they winded their way through the forest, hands clasped together like a lifeline. 

Emma sighed deeply, though not at the exertion. “I'm just. I don't know. Sad. Angry. It's not fair and I know that makes me sound like a child, but-”

“You don't,” Julian cut in, looking towards her over the witchlight. “It isn't fair. It's… By the Angel, Emma, I’d do anything, you know that don't you?” 

Emma nodded grimly. She did. God, she did. She only hoped her exile would do what they intended it to. She couldn't think of that, though, not when they'd have this night. Not when his hand was laced with hers and she could pretend this was their forever instead of an isolated, treasonous night. 

“What about you?” Emma asked, nudging Julian as they walked through the night. The moon was nearly full, blessedly illuminating Idris; it felt almost like a prayer. “What are you thinking about?”

Glancing at Julian, Emma caught what could only be a carefully-guarded smile. “I'm thinking about how slowly I want to take things tonight. We've never had the chance to. I'm thinking about all I can wring from you, in case it's all we will ever get.”

Emma's heart began to race as she looked at Julian from the corner of her eye, unable to keep the sly grin off her face. This was a side of him she hardly knew and she found herself hoping for the dozenth time that they had more time. 

They walked the rest of the way in near silence, occasionally sharing grins that varied in heat and sentiment until they found themselves at the top of a hill, staring down at an old, lovely house. The charred remains of its neighboring home stood slightly to the left. 

“Wayland manor?” Julian asked, sweeping his hair out of his eyes. 

Emma shrugged. “I figured it was as good as any. I don't think anybody's been here in years and it's far enough away from others.”

“Sounds perfect,” Julian concurred as they headed down the hill.


	2. After the raven has had its say

“Penny for your thoughts?” Julian asked as they winded their way through the forest, hands clasped together like a lifeline. 

Emma sighed deeply, though not at the exertion. “I'm just. I don't know. Sad. Angry. It's not fair and I know that makes me sound like a child, but-”

“You don't,” Julian cut in, looking towards her over the witchlight. “It isn't fair. It's… By the Angel, Emma, I’d do anything, you know that don't you?” 

Emma nodded grimly. She did. God, she did. She only hoped her exile would do what they intended it to. She couldn't think of that, though, not when they'd have this night. Not when his hand was laced with hers and she could pretend this was their forever instead of an isolated, treasonous night. 

“What about you?” Emma asked, nudging Julian as they walked through the night. The moon was nearly full, blessedly illuminating Idris; it felt almost like a prayer. “What are you thinking about?”

Glancing at Julian, Emma caught what could only be a carefully-guarded smile. “I'm thinking about how slowly I want to take things tonight. We've never had the chance to. I'm thinking about all I can wring from you, in case it's all we will ever get.”

Emma's heart began to race as she looked at Julian from the corner of her eye, unable to keep the sly grin off her face. This was a side of him she hardly knew and she found herself hoping for the dozenth time that they had more time. 

They walked the rest of the way in near silence, occasionally sharing grins that varied in heat and sentiment until they found themselves at the top of a hill, staring down at an old, lovely house. The charred remains of its neighboring home stood slightly to the left. 

“Wayland manor?” Julian asked, sweeping his hair out of his eyes. 

Emma shrugged. “I figured it was as good as any. I don't think anybody's been here in years and it's far enough away from others.”

“Sounds perfect,” Julian concurred as they headed down the hill. 

*****

She was beautiful, achingly so. He had painted her so many times, had memorized her face years ago, yet every time he saw her it was with new eyes, hungrily relearning her expressions and features as if to see her was to be granted the gift of impossibility. She was fierce and strong and yet so tender that Julian wanted to bask in her glow and soak up every ray she shone his way. Even with twigs in her hair and dirt on her face, she made his heart skip beats, stumbling in its hurry to know her more than he already did. 

“What?” Emma asked, catching him staring. 

Julian shook his head, grinning. “You're a mess,” he said by means of an explanation. At her narrowed eyes, his smile grew; he stepped nearer to her, reaching out to draw her closer. “You're a mess and yet you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.”

Emma closed her eyes, breathing slowly through her divinely-shaped nose. “I'm going to pretend,” she said, her eyes still closed, “that tonight is a normal night and not the end.”

“It might not be the end,” Julian said quietly, lifting her chin up to him. “Maybe it's the beginning.”

“Whatever end or beginning it may be, I'm still going to pretend that this is our life and we aren't parabatai. At least for a while. Okay?” Julian nodded. “Now, I'm going to take a shower. It has come to my attention that I am a _mess_.”

Julian saw the eye roll she tried to contain as she walked into the master bathroom. The water started a moment after and Julian tried to temper the stirring deep inside as he imagined Emma just beyond the wall, slipping into the shower, her-

“I don't suppose you want to join?” Emma asked, her head and bare shoulder visible around the corner of the wall. Julian sucked in a breath, almost startled by the invitation as he followed wordlessly, as though in a trance. 

The bathroom was lit by witchlight, the blue glow illuminating the room just enough to appreciate the curve of Emma’s ass as she stepped into the shower, looking over her shoulder to grin wickedly at Julian. She would be the death of him, no doubts there. He wasted no time shucking off his own clothes and following quickly behind her. 

If she was a goddess in normal situations, she was ethereal like this, standing under the shower head, reaching up to smooth the water over her golden hair. Julian shamelessly followed the droplets of water as they cascaded down her chest, slipping easily over her light pink peaked nipples and down the flat, hard panes of her stomach. He was sure he'd never appreciated her body as she did now and he burned it into his memory.

“Like the view?” Emma asked, commanding Julian’s eyes back up to hers. She was grinning around her bit bottom lip, something dangerous gleaming in her eye. 

“I'm going to paint you like this,” Julian confessed. “I have to get a good look, for authenticity, you know.”

“You could send a copy to the Clave,” she teased as she reached a hand towards him. He took her hand gladly, letting her pull him into the stream of water with her. At the first touch of their wet bodies pressed together, they both groaned as Julian’s head came down to rest on Emma’s shoulder whose arms wrapped easily around his back. __

_Y-O-U A-R-E P-E-R-F-E-C-T_ , she traced along the slick ridges of his back, appreciating each swell and dip of his warrior-honed muscles. 

Julian snorted inelegantly, pulling away to look at Emma, immediately lost in the depths of her eyes. 

“You are,” she insisted, her hands cupping his face. Julian closed his eyes at the tenderness of the touch, her unwavering conviction. He believed her, he realized. He would believe anything she said. 

****

“It has occurred to me,” Emma mused, her fingers tracing runes over the wet expanse of skin beneath her hands, “that there are many things you've never done.” Julian raised an eyebrow at her, urging his racing heart to slow. “And I want to be your first with those too.”  
Emma grinned at the look on his face, full of shameless marvel. Emma’s eyes were fixed on his lips which he licked in apprehension of their scrutiny. Emma bit her own lip at the gesture, heat spreading through her body as her eyes met Julian’s. “Unless you have any objections?” 

“None,” he breathed, grinning down at her. Emma groaned as thumbs traced the skin beneath her breasts, her chest arching easily into the touch, silently pleading for more. Julian seemed to understand her need and dragged his hands upwards, rolling her nipples between his fingers. 

Emma gasped, savoring the touch. She wanted to memorize every moment of this night, etching it into her bones until it became the very fabric of her being. She would live off the memory of tonight as nourishment for her soul as she spent her days in exile. If she couldn't have him forever, she'd remember tonight. 

Julian’s lips were on hers and they moved together so seamlessly that Emma could hardly believed he'd never kissed anyone but her. It made sense, she supposed, that hers were the only lips to shape his. She wanted hers to be the only lips he touched again, his the only mouth she tasted. 

Emma broke the kiss to turn Julian around so that the water showered onto his back as she kissed across his chest, delighting in the way his muscles moved beneath her. She felt almost drunk off his skin as she kissed lower, letting her tongue brush a nipple as she trailed lower still. Emma swore she could feel his heartbeat quicken with every downward inch and she wanted to feast upon it. Upon _him_. 

Bracing her knees on the cool porcelain, Emma looked up to Julian who watched her with hooded eyes, his lip caught between his teeth, his chest rising and falling rapidly in anticipation. Emma grinned wickedly as she slowly stroked the length of him, feeling him twitch into her hand. The motion did her in, shattering her prowess as hunger seared through her veins, burning down to her core. She wanted to do this right, to show him the limitless realms of desire, so she bit back the urge to devour him and slowly – so slowly – licked the length of him, her eyes fluttering shut at the taste of him on her tongue. 

“Emma,” he groaned, his voice ragged with ecstasy. Emma only moaned her understanding as she took his length into her mouth, the vibration of it wrenching some primal sound from deep in Julian. 

She wasn't new to sex, though she could count her past partners on one hand with a finger or two to spare; yet at every encounter, Emma was impressed by Julian’s size. It stood to reason, of course. He was perfect: beautiful, tall, built; of course he wouldn't disappoint in this department either. 

Emma took as much of him as she could into her mouth, the steady stream of water falling over his chest helping to ease him deeper down her throat. From the sounds falling from his lips, Emma knew the wetness left him with few complaints. 

Emma squeezed her thighs together, hungry for friction of her own as she worked Julian, the high of this power spurring her on. She would do this every day if only she could keep him. One hand dug into the flesh of his hip to steady herself as the other pumped to the rhythm of her mouth until Julian was panting, pleading, and then warning her. “Emma,” he moaned, his hand now tangled in her hair. “I'm-”

She nodded her head slightly, moaning onto his cock as she all but devoured him, wringing pleasure from him until he was swearing, his hands gripping her drenched hair, trembling and thrusting into Emma’s mouth as he came, her name like a prayer on his lips. 

Emma swallowed and worked him down slowly until his hands were tugging her upwards and into his arms. 

*****

“Emma,” was all he could manage to say as he brought his forehead down to hers, kissing her gently. 

“That's my name, don't wear it out,” she teased, reminding Julian of the girl she once was. 

Julian was grinning like a fool. “Brat.”

“So,” Emma said, sounding somewhat nervous. “Was that-”

“Amazing,” Julian breathed, resting his head on her shoulder. “It was- amazing.”

“You said that already,” Emma teased, pressing her body more fully into his. 

“You know,” said Julian, nipping at the space where her shoulder and neck met, “there are things I want to do to you, too…”

Emma whimpered, then pulled away only slightly. “You can do anything you want to do to me later, but first let's actually get clean, and then find food. I tried to devour you but, unfortunately, it wasn't quite enough.”

Julian growled at the innuendo, bending down to kiss her again. It was a gentle kiss, a thank you and an I love you and a promise for more. So much more.   
Julian washed Emma’s hair, pulling out the few remaining twigs as he lathered and rinsed and conditioned her golden hair, thinking of the colors he’d need to paint her hair like this in the faint blue light the witchlight provided. Emma groaned at the touch of his fingers against her scalp, her back pressed firmly against him. Julian couldn't keep his fingers from roaming and Emma soaked up the touch before pulling their bodies apart with a sigh, swearing she'd pass out if he touched her any more seriously before they found some sustenance. 

“How much would you love me if I said there's chocolate in my coat?” he asked, grinning at the way her eyes lit up. 

“So much more than I already do,” Emma purred, reaching around to turn off the hot water. 

They toweled off in silence, sneaking glances and touches that left Emma breathless. Julian pulled on his jeans before heading into the kitchen, leaving Emma to rake through her tangled hair as best she could with only her fingers. 

As he expected, the house was mostly empty after decades of vacancy. In the pantry he found crackers and cans of soup he heated up on the stove, taking care to fish out the carrots he knew Emma would scrunch her nose at. He was tempted to leave them, just to see that look on her face but resisted the urge, hoping to see the shy smile on her face when she realized he'd done it for her. 

He would do anything to see her smile.

Finding her out in the woods had broken something inside of him that was beyond his power to fix. If he could, he'd… Well, what could he do, really? He would never have asked her to be his parabatai if he had known this was their fate, though without the protection of the bond, the Clave would have separated them after the Dark War. The thought of losing her was inconceivable. Exile was temporary – though excruciating – but to imagine these past five years without Emma was… Well, he couldn't have done it. He became a father at twelve, and Emma had stepped up as the children's mother figure alongside him, whether that day or just naturally over the years. She had been his constant through it all. 

So really, was this the worst case scenario? He could think that had he never kissed her that day on beach, everything would be different, but that was a lie. If not then, then someday all the same. They'd be in this situation regardless. There was nothing Julian would change, he realized. He only wished Emma wouldn't be exiled because of it; he wished he could take the brunt of it. 

Emma sidled up to him then, clad only in Julian’s shirt, her blonde hair falling effortless around her, the tips of it dripping onto the fabric. His heart throbbed at the sight of her. “I want to see you like this every day,” he admitted, grabbing the front of the shirt and dragging her towards him. 

Emma smiled, folding herself against Julian’s bare chest, her hand tracing a rune on his shoulder. She nodded sullenly, her lips twisting into a frown. 

“No,” Julian pleaded. “Don't look so sad, please. Tell me what I can do.”

Emma sighed dramatically, pulling away slightly to look up at him. Her brown eyes took his breath away, the way only someone in love with a brown-eyed person could understand. In a sea of blue-eyes Blackthorns, Emma’s deep brown eyes stood out, thwarting all beliefs that colored eyes were special. 

“There was mention of chocolate?” Emma said, her eyebrows raised in question. 

Julian laughed, pulling her close against him again as he drew out the purple Cadbury bar from his back pocket. Emma’s eyes widened as she absentmindedly licked her lips, reaching for the bar. 

“Ah, ah,” Julian teased, pulling it away from her, laughing at her pout. He kissed her nose and then her cheek. “A kiss for the chocolate, fair one.”

“You've been spending too much time with faeries,” Emma said, rolling her eyes.

“Be careful,” Julian chided, “you're starting to sound like the Cohort.”

Emma glared playfully and hopped up onto the counter, pulling Julian between her legs. At this height they were eye level and Julian smiled at that: the small, new ways they were experiencing each other. He wanted to experience her in so many ways. 

Emma’s kiss wiped all thoughts from his mind as her lips found his easily, kissing him harder than he'd expected. God, she was good at that. Julian kissed her back hungrily, and had Emma’s stomach not audibly growled, he expected the soup would have been left to boil itself to death on the stove. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and handed Emma the chocolate. 

“I’d say something about eating desert before dinner but something tells me you'd just roll your eyes.”

“You know me so well,” Emma crooned as she opened the chocolate bar. “Where'd you get this anyway?”

“Fleet Street,” Julian said with a shrug. “I bought you a lot of chocolate, actually… It's all back with the rest of my stuff though. I was smart enough to keep one bar on me, though.” 

Emma grinned as she brought a square of it to her mouth. Julian decided he should buy her chocolate everywhere he went, if only to see her smile like that.   
Remembering the soup, Julian backed regretfully away from Emma. He found bowls and utensils and ladled out their food, glancing back at Emma to find her watching him, her legs swinging mildly from where she sat on the counter. 

“You are so beautiful,” he mused and Emma looked almost demure at his confession. “I can see us living like this. You sitting there eating your chocolate in my shirt as I no doubt make dinner. Just us.”

Just us. Because after all, the kids would someday grow up and travel the world. Maybe he and Emma could have a small place in Idris, just for them. They could still live in the Institute, but this could be their asylum. 

Emma smiled, but it didn't quite meet her eyes. “That's all I want. I think that's all I've ever wanted.”

“I'm sorry I can't promise it'll ever be like this.”

Emma smiled sadly as she slid off the counter and strode up to him, placing her hand against his cheek. She looked so sad that Julian had to close his eyes to compose himself. When he opened them, Emma was still staring intently at him, her head slowly shaking. “It's not your fault, Jules. It's all just cruel fate. Don't apologize.”

He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers. “Come on,” he said, grabbing the bowls off the counter. “Your gourmet feast awaits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm not bothering to edit this. I really need a beta... Regardless, tell me what you think! You can find me on tumblr as thenephellephilosophy!


	3. I'll be home with you

Emma stood from the table, taking their empty bowls to the sink. “I don't suppose anybody would care if we didn't wash these…” she supposed, turning back towards Julian. A slow smile curved the corner of her mouth as she watched Julian watch her. “We have more important things to do, after all.”

Julian cocked his head, grinning back at Emma as though they shared a secret. “What might that be?” he teased. 

“I can think of a few things.”

Julian stood and sauntered towards Emma as her stomach quivered in apprehension, a host of butterflies swarming the depths of her soul. Coming to rest behind her Julian brushed the damp hair from Emma’s shoulder, causing her to grip the edge of the counter as her eyelids fluttered shut. At the first brush of lips upon her neck Emma sucked in a breath, letting her head fall lightly onto Julian’s chest as his lips wandered towards the shell of her ear. She groaned his name, turning her head so that their lips met. 

Emma wanted to savor every second of this, each breath that found them together, every press of his lips against hers. She had wanted to kiss those lips for _years_ and it made her head swim to realize he had wanted her too. Now they were here together and for all they knew, this would be their last chance. But she wouldn't think of that now, not when they shared breath, their bodies separated by mere layers of fabric. Emma let Julian turn her around as he pressed her more firmly against the counter, the press of his groin giving him away. Emma groaned as she deepened the kiss, wanting to engulf him until they could never again be parted. It was futile but she persisted. 

They were together tonight, and if the future wasn't promised, at least they could have this. 

“Bedroom,” Emma breathed between kisses, pushing Julian gently away from her. He permitted the distance but pulled her back against him a moment later as they stumbled from the kitchen and blindly down the halls. This house was foreign and each crash against furniture was rewarded in soft chuckles from Emma and curses from Julian which inspired more honest laugher from her. By the time they reached the bedroom, Emma could hardly kiss for laughter and Julian glared playfully, swearing she'd better have some damn good iratzes for her later. 

“Runes won't even cross your mind by the time I'm done with you” was her only promise. 

*****

Julian was suddenly nervous as he laid Emma onto the bed, her smooth, toned legs drawing up around him as he slid over her. Their previous encounters had been so urgent, so crazed that there wasn't a second for him to _think_ about any of this. Now here they were, and Julian could do nothing but think... about her lips, red and wet from his kisses; about her breasts, pressed between them; about her flat stomach beneath his hand; about… all of her. His inexperience left him trembling, thoughts swirling in his head until he almost wished he had practiced on other girls. He'd never had any desire to, but now his gut wrenched, wanting to be good for her, to make her _feel_ good the way she could do for him. 

Emma must have felt his apprehension because she braced herself on her elbows, looking more squarely at Julian. “What is it?”

Julian shook his head but his mouth betrayed him. “There's just a lot I… haven't done.”

Emma laughed and drew his lips against hers, her kiss slow on soft. “We can level the playing field a bit,” she said as they pulled apart. “There's something I've never done; I mean… something nobody's ever done to me. I have no expectations whatsoever.” 

Julian looked surprised. “You mean, nobody's ever…” He couldn't find it in him to use the words. “You know.”   
Emma shook her head. 

“Why?” Julian asked, looking puzzled. “But you've clearly… given head,” he spat out, blushing wildly at the words. Emma only laughed again, kissing him. 

“Yeah, I've _given head_ ,” she said mockingly, falling back onto the pillow. “I don't know. Clary says I need to date better guys, the ones I've… slept with… aren't big on the whole reciprocation thing.”

“You guys talk about sex?” Julian asked, somewhat puzzled. Emma was his only real friend and sex wasn't exactly at the top of their conversation list. 

“Well yeah, what else are we supposed to talk about?”

“I don't know. War, training, the Cold Peace. Stuff like that.” 

Emma laughed and pulled Julian more fully onto her, kissing him lightly, nipping at his lip. He groaned and deepened the kiss, his hand lingering at the soft cotton hem of her borrowed shirt. Emma arched her back off the bed in invitation and the shirt was pulled over her head and thrown carelessly to the floor. 

She was so ceaselessly beautiful, every inch of her from her angular collarbone to her small, part breasts, all the way down to her toned stomach, her six pack giving Julian’s a run for his money. He let his gaze linger, wanting to memorize her like this, splayed before him, so open and willing. He never thought he'd have her even once, yet she'd give him so much more than that if they could. He thought of the colors he’s mix to paint her like this and burned every bit of her into his memory. 

“You're staring,” Emma chastised and was quickly silenced as Julian’s head dipped to taste her skin, his lips and tongue laving at the hollow of her throat. She squirmed as his mouth mapped out her skin, a cartographer of flesh, noting each territory that made her back arch, her hips pressing up against his. She was intoxicating and he was lost in her poison, desperate for every soft moan that slipped past her lips. The further he worked down her body, the less restraint he had. 

When his mouth fell to the flesh of her breast, Julian pointedly ignored her nipples, moving past them with a wicked grin at her objections as he licked at the skin just beneath, nipping at her flesh enough for Emma to fist a hand in the sheets, another grasping at his hair, trying to guide him to the abandoned peaks. Only when his nails grazed gently down her sides and Emma threw her head back against the pillows did he take her nipple into his mouth, earning a curse of delight from the golden warrior beneath him. 

He smiled against her skin before sucking more diligently at her nipple, taking it between his teeth and flicking his tongue over the tip. “Shit,” was Emma's only response. When his hand found her other breast, he swirled his finger around her already-peaked nipple, teasing. Her hips ground against his in earnest, her back arching far off the bed as she panted beneath him.   
Once satisfied with this exploration, Julian moved lower, kissing his way down her stomach, searching for particularly sensitive spots. When his mouth found the silken flesh of her sides, Emma moaned loudly, squirming onto her side at the sensation. Julian growled and moved her onto her back again, his arm pinning her hips as he kissed up and down her sides, his own need growing more and more inflamed as she cried out at his ministrations. 

***** 

When he reached the top of her black underwear, Emma was out of her mind with need, her throat dry from panting. She could feel the burning desire pooling between her thighs and wanted to _force_ Julian down further as he stared up at her, licking his lips, tracing the lacy band between her hips. “Julian-” she rasped out, hoping he could see in her eyes how near insanity she was, how desperately she needed to be touched. 

Truth be told, it wasn't entirely the fault of her boyfriends that they'd never done this. Sure, they'd never offered but she'd never asked either; it always seemed to intimate, too intimidating, and she had never felt quite comfortable with the idea. Now, though. Now she wanted it. Needed it. In this moment, she wasn't sure she'd survive if he didn't put his mouth on her _now_. She was burning, half-wild with need and she wanted to fall all the way into the desperation that awaited, to give him this piece of her she'd offered nobody else. Yet Julian was staring at her, his eyes lidded as he watched her watching him, his hands still skimming her sides as she writhed under his touch.   
As if he couldn't take it anymore, Julian pulled the last remaining scrap of fabric off in a single move, sitting up to pull them over her feet, tossed without a thought onto the floor. The witchlight glowed dimly on the bedside table as Emma sought out Julian’s eyes as they raked up her body from toe to head, then settled back at the apex of her thighs, his breath ragged in his chest as he sat back on his heels. 

“More touching, less staring,” Emma admonished breathlessly. She _needed_ this, needed it like she didn't know she could need anything. She'd never felt such burning desire before, she'd never been worshipped so thoroughly, turned on to the point of pain as Julian had explored her from neck to hip. She must have begged because Julian was torn from his reverie, coming back to himself enough to grab Emma’s calves, spreading her legs enough to climb up between them.  
Emma swore time had stopped in those few seconds he took to kiss up her thighs, her legs bending involuntarily in reaction to such a tender touch. “Let me know if I'm doing this right,” he said quietly, glancing up to Emma who nodded furiously. She thought she must be a sight, then, certainly she looked as crazed as she felt, the desire threatening to blaze from her as she burned under his gaze. And then his mouth was on her and - _oh_. Her hips bucked at the touch, iher back arching from the bed as she groaned. Holding down her hips, Julian mouthed the apex of her thighs tentatively, then let his tongue dip lower, sliding through her folds. At her taste, Julian let out a strangled groan and lost every shred of reservation as he worked at her more confidently, as though the taste of her need sparked something primal in him, some base instinct that rendered him in tune with her every move. 

Emma couldn't think, couldn't speak, could only feel as Julian's tongue ran over her; she would have sworn he'd done this before if the sensations sweeping through her body were any indication, from the electricity in her toes and fingertips and every spot in between. This was the beginning and the end of her life, the point at which some stars collided, forming galaxies that shone behind her eyelids as she trembled on the bed, her thighs shaking almost too hard to hold still. When she thought she had found nirvana, she felt his fingers sliding over her folds and now she _knew_ she was begging, pleading, swearing her allegiance if only he'd indulge her. 

He readily obliged, sliding a finger inside and Emma couldn't contain the moan that spilled from her, a stream of curses not far behind. His tongue swirled circles along her clit and then he added a finger and Emma was gone, transported beyond her body and into the void as he fingers thrust into her again and again, his mouth never ceasing its endeavor as he brought her higher, higher, higher until suddenly the dam broke; Emma thought she might be screaming as specks of light danced behind her eyes and her hand tangled desperately in Julian’s dark brown curls as she shattered, her hips undulating beneath him as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her until she knew her soul was cleansed, purged of everything except for Julian and her, his fingers still working as he brought her back down, down, down. 

Suddenly it was too much and Emma gasped Julian’s name, drawing him back up to her where she trembled and shook in his arms, his lips finding hers as she came back down to the earth, every worry left behind. 

*****

“Julian,” Emma rasped, her jaw quivering against his lips, her body more pliant than he'd ever known her to be. “Oh my god. _Julian_.”

He chuckled, pride and pleasure mixing to create a certain euphoria, untouched by any shadow of doubt. She said his name once or ten times more between kisses as her body still trembled, the taste of her shared between their mouths. 

“Give me a minute,” she said softly, pressing her forehead briefly against his. Julian nodded, kissing her cheeks and her forehead and her nose, her shoulder, her collarbone, anything he could reach from his spot in her arms. 

“So was that okay?” he asked when her body balanced, some sexual homeostasis finding her. He tried to disguise the trepidation in his voice, though from her response he supposed she couldn't have many complaints. 

“ _Okay??_ ” Emma asked incredulously. “Oh my god _, Julian._ Where- how- oh my god. _Shit_.”

She sought out his lips, prying them open with her tongue to taste herself on his and Julian thought it was the most erotic, delicious thing she could have done. He didn't hold back as he kissed her, their tongues pressing against each other, a dance in its own right. 

“Another confession,” Emma said between kisses, pulling away enough to look Julian in the eye. “Nobody's ever… I mean, nobody's ever made me come before. I don't think I've ever made myself come like that, even. That was…”

She didn't continue, opting instead to find Julian’s lips again. She braced her hands on his chest, pushing him over as she climbed into his lap, kissing him hard as they both sat upright, clawing at each other. “You really do need better boyfriends,” Julian mused, his voice a hungry growl. He expected a glare from Emma but instead, she laughed, a carefree, euphoric thing that would have slain his heart if it didn't beat so steadily for her. 

“Only you,” she said, her hand coming to rest upon his heart. He didn't know if it was a statement or a promise but in this moment, he hardly cared. Emma was in his lap, naked and flushed, and nothing else in the world mattered, not war, not the Clave, not the parabatai curse, nor her impending exile. All that mattered was Emma; all that had _ever_ mattered like this was Emma. 

He found her lips again and drew her down against him as he laid back on the bed, his hands wrapped around her hips like the lock on a treasure chest. When Emma pulled back to speak Julian cut her off with another kiss as he pressed her hips onto him. She groaned, allowing herself to roll her hips over his as their kisses grew in intensity until the strict confines of Julian’s jeans became too abrasive against his aching length. 

Emma must have understood as he broke the kiss because she sat up to unbuckle his jeans, moving torturously slowly as if she knew how close the buckle and her hands were to her center. She was too much, too much and yet not enough in this moment; he needed her closer, needed her soul laid bare to him as her body was. Then Emma's hands were drawing down his zipper and peeling the clothes from his hips as his cock sprang free. She giggled, dipping her head down to lick teasingly up his length before sucking the precum from the tip, licking his lips as she pulled up again. Julian’s eyes were glued to hers as she grinned and he could actually hear his heart’s quickening tempo, a crescendo of emotion as his blood ran hot in his veins. 

Before he could beg, Emma shucked the jeans from his legs and braced her hands on his muscular thighs as she again took him into her mouth, burying him as deep as she could into her throat as her tongue pressed firmly against his length. Julian groaned, thinking this entire night must be a dream; in fact, he swore he'd had this very same dream before, many times over perhaps over the course of many years. But this was real. Emma was here, in the flesh, his cock in her mouth like she couldn't resist the sight of him without some level of contact. Julian realized she must _like_ giving head and he tried not to think of Cameron Ashdown, or even worse, his _brother_ if they had-

No. He forcefully pushed the thought from his head as he looked down at Emma, her eyelids fluttering as her mouth rose and fell over him, soft moans rumbling against him. He growled her name and pulled her onto him, finding her lips as her hips sank down over him, the incredible heat of her core pressing onto him. The kiss was slow and heady, full of hitched breaths and gentle laughter as they touched and explored and played together. It was only when Emma raised herself suddenly that Julian thought of anything more than the delight that was this Shadowhunter. 

Then, she was positioning his cock under her and sinking down slowly, _so_ slowly and every thought fell from Julian’s mind until nothing was left but Emma. 

Emma, who he'd loved all his life; who he'd fought beside; who he'd die for. Emma who raised the children beside him, who'd held him together when he thought he might fray at the ends, who'd provided companionship and friendship and comfort over so many desolate years. _Emma_ who'd be exiled far away from all she'd known for some unknown amount of time, losing some gifts, some magic, the core of all she was. For him. For them. For the hope of breaking their parabatai bond, shattering the curse that promised to kill them and all they loved. And Emma would take that sentence because she was strong and fierce and loyal, because Julian couldn't leave the kids, because she had hope that they would have a future, no matter how much she feared they wouldn't. 

When she started to move on him, Julian snapped back to the present, finding her eyes intently on him. Her face was ravaged with emotion and Julian thought she must be thinking along the same lines as him, feeling the immensity of this moment, her soul bared to him as he’d hoped it would be, just as he expected his was to her. Beyond that though, her face was overcome with pleasure as her lips parted, her eyebrows furrowing. When she rose and fell on him again, Julian met her with a thrust of his hips and Emma moaned, her eyelids fluttering shut as her body fell faster and faster onto his, her need a tangible thing that Julian met with hunger of his own as they moved together, the blue witchlight playing along their skin like a prayer. 

Julian was thankful for raunchy internet searches as his thumb came to rest at the apex of Emma’s thighs, rubbing soft circles that pulled more desperate sounds from her as she rode him more desperately, more deliberately. He could feel her walls tightening against him as she pleaded for more, faster, harder, _please_ until the only sounds in the room were the slap of skin against skin and Emma’s shaking breath as she came, gasping and digging her nails into Julian’s chest, her jaw quivering under the sensation. 

It took everything in Julian’s power to not follow behind her and instead let her ride out the dizzying waves of pleasure as she rocked her hips against his, her hips trembling through the bliss. When she finally opened her eyes to Julian, he saw straight to her soul and kissed her quickly to erase the fear and heartache he saw in her. His heart fractured at the sight and he willed it away and he moved to put her beneath him, as though he could shield her from all the awaited outside the walls of this manor. For now, they were here. 

“It's going to be okay,” Julian promised, hoping it wouldn't end up a well-meaning lie. He brushed a stray blonde lock behind her ear as he kissed her again, throwing his heart into it as if to say _I would do anything,_ anything, _to save you from this. I will carry this burden to ease some of the weight. Let me._ What he did say was merely “I love you. Emma, by the Angel, it’s only ever been you for me. I’d sell my soul to the Seelie queen if we could have this every day.”

“Anyone but her,” Emma said, eyes wide in mock horror. Julian grinned, tracing the smile on her lips with his thumb. Emma lurched forward and bit it before he had a chance to move it away, holding it between her teeth as the tip of her tongue flicked over the calloused finger. Then she wrapped her mouth around his thumb and sucked, her tongue mimicking the movements on his cock as Julian groaned, his eyes heavy-lidded but glued to her mouth. 

He was glad he was still sheathed inside of her as he pulled himself out before absolutely slamming back into her, her mouth falling open as he stole back his thumb. His thumb – now wet from her mouth’s attention – found her peaked nipple as he rolled it between his fingers and Emma gasped, her hips pushing back against his. Julian grinned as he pulled out again, delighting at Emma’s whimper as he teased her, dipping only just into her wet center before withdrawing himself once more. Again and again as he kissed her breasts, biting and licking and tasting until Emma's need bordered on fury and her nails dug into his ass, pleading with him to just _fuck her_ before she lost her mind. 

Julian obliged as though he himself wasn't already nearly drunk with lust as Emma writhed beneath him, arching and pleading and absolutely responsive to his playful torture. The moan escaping her lips when he plunged fully into her was unlike anything he'd torn from her yet, heavy and primal and dripping with need. They moved together so seamlessly that one might suspect they'd done this together for a lifetime instead of merely thrice and Julian delighted in it, at how _good_ they were together, as synchronized in bed as they were while fighting, as if they were meant to do those two things side by side forever; it was as if the Angel had appointed them to each other, to have and to hold, until death did them part. 

God, he wanted that. He wanted her. Them. A lifetime of this synchronicity. 

When Emma came around him this time, a chorus of professions of love tumbling from her lips, Julian didn't hold back as he buried his head against her sweat-slicked neck and followed her into the place souls are bred and born and chosen. He knew with utter certainty that in any life, in any form, he'd choose her. 

*****

Her heartbeat was loud in her ears as her body came back to earth, the weight of Julian atop her the only thing keeping her from drifting out through the atmosphere entirely. He was her anchor and the thrum of his own heartbeat inside of her core drew a satisfied moan from deep within her chest. They laid together, panting through the residual moans and tremors until their labored breathing calmed and silence once again surrounded them. 

Emma could feel her heart so physically that she could have sworn she could have simply touched it, the swollen, aching, _smiling_ organ that was full of only one word: Julian. The muscles of his back flexed beneath her hands as he shifted to one side, his weight on one elbow as he looked down at Emma. She knew she had tears running down her cheeks when Julian bent to kiss them, though she didn't know when she'd started. To say she was sad would be like considering the ocean merely water. She wasn't only sad, she was sated and yet hungry and happy too. She was so much all at once and if not for Julian's hand over her heart, she thought she might explode from the enormity of it all. 

“Julian,” she whispered, her voice sounding raw. She wondered how loud she'd been if her voice was any indication and she felt herself flush slightly at the thought. She'd never felt anything like that before, like sex was merely the pathway to that indescribable union of souls binding. By the look in his ocean-blue eyes, he felt it too. He laid his forehead against hers and Emma touched their lips together, sticky and dry from the panting wretched from them mere moments before. When Julian's arm began to shake at the weight of himself, he collapsed to the bed, pulling Emma against him, her head tucked under his chin. 

Safe. She felt safe with him, now and always. “You are… really good at that.”

Julian laughed, a full-bodied thing that shook her against his chest until she was laughing too. When they calmed, Emma looked up into his seemingly-endless eyes and loved the way happiness transformed him. He was always so serious, so responsible and unyielding with that terrifyingly ruthless edge that promised he would exact revenge on anyone who dared cross the ones he loved. Like this, she could forget it all, forget the fact that they had survived a war that left them parentless, forced to be the parents of four children at twelve years old. She could forget that they were on the cusp of another war. She could forget that they were warriors at all, with duties to protect the mundane world at all costs, to protect each other with their lives. She could forget any heartaches that awaited. Like this, they could be two people devastatingly in love, wrapped together in that love as though nothing else mattered. 

For tonight. 

“I will miss you every second,” Julian swore, ripping Emma from her silent reverie. “Every breath. I'll wait for you forever whether I die alone or with you by my side.”

“What if it doesn't work?” Emma whispered, voicing her innermost fears. “What if the bond doesn't break?” 

“Then we will find another way.”

They slept off and on that night, waking when hands crept over their sleeping forms, rousing each other to touch and feel and savor every last hour together. Emma didn't know how many times they'd made love, but when she awoke to sunlight illuminating the mountains beyond the window, warning of responsibilities and commitments, Emma roused Julian once more. This time, they fucked hard and desperately, as though this really might be the last time. She is inside of him as much as he is in her; with each press of his hips, Emma falls down, down, down, burrowing beneath his ribs until their heartbeats pulse as one. 

Though they had done little but fuck all night, this time felt like the first and the last and Emma was quietly sobbing as it ended, her shoulders shaking furiously against Julian’s chest. He held her, whispering promises and convictions until her shaking stilled and they laid together, skin on skin and souls intertwined. Always the protector; always the one to piece everyone back together. Emma felt almost guilty for making him take up that role again with her but she was grateful all the same. 

They must have drifted off again because the next thing they knew, they woke to a clap of thunder. No, not thunder, the skies were clear and sunny. “What-?”

Julian’s groan cut her off as he pulled the blankets up over Emma just in time to see a familiar face appear in the doorway. Emma groaned to then at the sight of Magnus Bane, standing against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked amused and tired. 

“We've really got to stop meeting like this,” Magnus mused, his glance flitting back and forth between Emma’s and Julian’s. Neither of them spoke. 

“I understand,” Magnus said slowly, “and I don't care. However, Robert Lightwood was looking for you. I covered for you both and he doesn't suspect a thing but he needs you in his office to smooth out the details of Emma’s exile.” 

He looked genuinely sad as he considered, his head shaking slowly as he ran his hand through his hair. “I will do as much as I can for both of you during the exile. I am at your disposal. Now, get clothes on and stop making bedroom eyes at each other. I'll wait for you in the foyer to portal you to Robert.” 

When he was gone, Emma sank back against Julian, letting him hold her in his crushing grasp for just a moment longer. They dressed silently, avoiding each other's eyes as the pulse of love beat between them. At the threshold of the room, they finally looked at each other. 

“I'm glad we had last night,” Julian said earnestly. “Even if it makes me miss you that much more.”

Emma smiled, though it didn't quite meet her eyes. “On the bright side, I'll have much to think about during lonely nights.” 

Julian sucked a breath through his teeth, his eyes closing at her implication. “ _That_ image will keep me up for the next decade.” 

Emma laughed, pulling Julian against her. She didn't know what the Inquisitor would say; she didn't know where she'd go or for how long. The only thing she knew with utter certainty was that her heart was Julian’s and maybe someday they could be together without threat. Julian’s kiss told her the same, and when their whispers of love echoed between them, Magnus shouted from the kitchen, breaking them from this dream. 

“Sometime today would be ideal!”

With a final sad grin, Emma grabbed Julian’s hand as they headed towards their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I didn't edit this (because I'm lazy af...) so hopefully it doesn't have too many errors. I hope you've liked the story! I certainly enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> I'll be writing for in the Shadowhunters world for the rest of my days so keep an eye out if you liked this! *insert other self-promoting ship love here*


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